Early one recent morning I was awakened by the insistent paradiddle of a sapsucker playing our local hollow utility pole. Other local woodies simply drill away like wooden machine guns, but the Red-breasted Sapsucker has some variation in his tapping, a musical cadence. There are mnay young Steller’s Jays about in our garden now, newly fledged and naive. Instead of simply “Steller’s J” they should be denoted as “Steller’s JR” for junior.
They act much like 12 year old humans. They seem to be physically fairly mature but they are totally baffled by the workings of the universe.
This morning one cornered itself on our porch then flew into a window in an unnecessary panic as I drew near. Finally he bounced off the glass and flapped off into a nearby bush, certain he had cleverly averted a sudden death. The mature jays recognize me as a food source and barely twitch as I walk, or sit on the fence and loudly criticize my paltry offerings which never satisfy their boundless greed. Wall Streeters one and all, those jays.
Some humans pretend to believe an adage of “never apologize, never explain.” In Jayworld that adage is clearly understood to be “never apologize, always exclaim.” And thus they do. Their peanut announcement each day is nearly as raucous as their “Raven alert!” screams were yesterday.